Arrowroots International

Poutine from Chez Schwart's 3899 St-Laurent Boulevard, Montreal  For Memorial Day Weekend I drove up to Canada with a couple of my classmates. They had planned this trip for a week. I got in at the last second. Two things will forever be ingrained in my memory from my first time in Canada. One: So much French. A ridiculous amount. Stop signs in Montreal don't say STOP they say Arrêt! Stop is universal! Even in France, some Asian countries, and Russia the signs read STOP... Fortunately, we had one Frenchman with us and I also have a rotation of French words and phrases I feel comfortable using. I even picked up a couple of new words while I was there. The second and most beautiful part of my visit was poutine. For the uninitiated, poutine is the greatest thing Canada has ever developed. It's french fries topped with gravy and cheese (meat and other toppings optional) There are photos below. I'm so happy that I had the chance to experience this wonderful

Talking with a group of international students at the Harvard Kennedy School, I was asked where in Africa my family was from. I had no idea, I said; for generations my family had lived in Texas. I was then asked if I considered myself to be African American. My response was that my entire life I had always considered myself to be a Black American. This response simultaneously amused and dissatisfied the small group of highly educated wealthy foreigners. After a brief exchange of words and our opinions someone asked, why is it that Americans are so obsessed with race? Why can we not just see people as people? In the perfect world I would just be seen as a person. A human being. A carbon based life form. An American. However, in the United States, skin color has always determined so much about the type of life a person lived.   From 1619, when the British brought the first enslaved Africans to Jamestown and 231 years after being Black essentially meant you were a slave. In fact, it